The Day I Gave Up on Us

Ardenville was hit by its worst rainstorm in a decade. After work, my coworkers gradually headed home, while I stayed behind to finish up some overtime.

Brandon Cruz texted me. [The rain's really coming down. I'll pick you up.]

I knew he was trying to make up with me.

It was our wedding anniversary ten days ago. I made reservations for dinner, but he never showed.

I waited until the restaurant was closing before I saw a post from his assistant, Stella Beck, on social media. Brandon was clearly visible in the photo.

Her caption read, [Best birthday ever. Thanks for dinner, boss!]

When I got home, I pulled up the photo and confronted Brandon.

He shoved my phone away impatiently.

"She was spending her birthday alone. What's wrong with me taking one of my employees out to dinner? Stop making such a big deal out of it. We can celebrate our anniversary any year."

Right. We could celebrate our anniversary any year.

So why couldn't the same be said about her birthday?

We stopped speaking the next day, and today marked ten straight days of giving each other the silent treatment.

In the past, I was always the one trying to patch things up. If Brandon had reached out first like this, I would've been overjoyed, maybe even a little flattered.

But now, I felt nothing. I simply replied, [Okay.]

We agreed for him to pick me up at 6 p.m. There was nowhere convenient for him to pull over outside my office, so I hurried to the bus stop nearby.

By 9 p.m., the rain was coming down even harder. Even under the shelter, the legs of my pants were soaked through.

Brandon still hadn't shown up.

I pulled out my phone to call an Uber and noticed a notification from an account I had added to my favorites.

I tapped it and saw a photo Stella posted a few minutes earlier. Her caption read, [Best boss ever. Thanks for the ride home!]

I recognized the dashboard immediately. There were only two cars like that in the entire city, and one of them belonged to Brandon.

Hanging from the rearview mirror was the small cross I gave him last year for protection.

When I first put it there, Brandon frowned. "That thing doesn't match the car."

I had to ask him several times before he finally agreed to leave it up.

As I thought about it now, something inside me finally snapped into place.

I liked Stella's post.

Brandon clearly wasn't coming. I opened the Uber app, but there were barely any drivers available, and the estimated wait was nearly an hour. By then, I was already soaked from the knees down, so I gave up and headed for the bike-share station instead.

-

Brandon still wasn't home when I got back.

I took a quick shower and some cold medicine, but by the time I crawled into bed, I was already feeling lightheaded.

At some point during the night, I stirred at the sound of the bedroom door opening.

It was Brandon.

Maybe he didn't expect me to go to bed without waiting for him, because he walked over and stopped beside the bed.

I could feel him looking at me, but I felt too awful to open my eyes or say anything.

A moment later, he walked away. Soon, I heard the shower running in the bathroom.

The soft sound eventually lulled me back into an uneasy sleep.

When my alarm went off the next morning, my head was still fuzzy, and it took me a few seconds to reach over and turn it off.

Brandon clicked his tongue in annoyance, and the sound jolted me fully awake.

I had a fever and a splitting headache, but I was supposed to lead an important meeting that day. I had no choice but to force myself out of bed, get ready, and head to work.

The moment I got to the office, the coworker sitting next to me took one look at my flushed face and asked if I was okay. She brought me some Tylenol and a cold compress.